


Myself and I

by MadisonAvenue21



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dramatic, Hate to Love, M/M, Realization of love, hate feelings, love feelings, talking to yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadisonAvenue21/pseuds/MadisonAvenue21
Summary: Ed tries to talk himself out of loving Oswald... literally





	Myself and I

**Author's Note:**

> They say once you start writing fanfiction, that you've gone too deep... well, kids, welcome to the deep end...  
> This is my first Gotham Fanfic, I'm still working on how to write for characters that are so different from characters that I usually write as... what can I say, I like the practice and I'm a sucker...  
> xox

Arkham Asylum, Ed’s home away from home. Where the patients were dumb, but the guards were dumber; it was safe to say, he felt completely out of place. Finishing out his 9th year in Arkham, the only thing that kept him sane were his weekly letters from Oswald. He had sent one, as a shot in the dark, shortly after being locked away, never knowing if he’d get a response. He just wanted to hear something from someone familiar. No one was more surprised than him when he received his first letter from Oswald a month later with pages upon pages written to him. Stating it took him so long because he had to trade for the extra paper. It made Ed laugh, for the first time since being locked up. He eagerly began to open his most recent letter; he was starting to think Oswald gave up on writing to him. Never the less, it was here, and he was excited to read all that Oswald was ready to divulge. Instead, he was disappointed to find this one so short compared to the others.  

**Dear Ed,**

**Just when I think I can’t last another minute in this prison; I get one of your letters and I remember that I’m not completely alone. I would have written sooner, but someone stole my pencil. I don’t even want to tell you what I had to do to get another one. I’m sorry if I had you under the impression that I wasn’t going to write, I would never miss a letter.**

**Until we meet again,**

**Your,**

**Oswald**

 

As short as it was, Ed held it to his chest and fell back on his cot in utter happiness.

_“No, Novella this time? How disappointing.”_  Ed turned his head slowly, hoping the all too familiar voice didn’t have a presence to match. Unfortunately, not.

“Oh my god, I thought you were gone. GO. AWAY.”

_“And miss the next part to this sickeningly sweet saga? Never.”_

“They’re just letters.” Ed reasoned.

_“Looove letters.” He pretends to gag and smiles wide._

“They aren’t love letters!” Ed holds the paper tighter, causing it to slightly crumple.

_“You’re right, nothing in there screams l o v e.” he says in a snide tone. “I think you might have upset him.”_ Ed sits up and holds the dented letter arms-length before adjusting his glasses, which by this point, had seen better days. He reads and rereads the letter over and over.

_“Something’s missing? No?”_

“You don’t think it was something I said last time?”

_“Well, mentioning the dream you had about Karen? Katlyn-“_

“Kristen!”

_“Riiight, Kristen… I mean, who even remembers… this dream, you might as well have told him you dreamt about, you know, with her.” he raises his eyebrows and jabs his elbow to the right towards Ed, smirking._

“But I didn’t, I wouldn’t tell Oswald that.”

_“But if you did, maybe he would finally stop writing you? Who has time to read a novel every week? You could be rocking in the corner like everybody else.” His booming laughter echoes throughout the cell._

“I don’t want Oswald to stop writing me. He’s my friend.”

_“Look on the bright side, you’ll always have me.” His laughter echoes through the cell again, the cocky look on his face being the only thing Ed needed to charge at him._

“Stop talking!” Ed screamed, crashing into the wall. The laughter continued, but on the opposite side of the room.

_“How many times are you going to do that before you realize that’s not going to work?” he shook his head and took a seat on Ed’s cot, crossing his legs and looking at him from over his glasses._

“As many times as it takes for you to go away.” With his back against the wall, he slid down to a sitting position with his knees to his chest.

_“I’m only trying to protect you.” He whispered._

“Protect me from what?” He pushed his glasses up towards the bridge of his nose and squinted at the apparition.

_“That bird-nose bastard.” He said through clenched teeth._

“Oswald?” he whispered and stood upright in anger. “Don’t you dare say anything about him! You have no right!” he pointed, and the figure stood up to match his height, exactly.

_“What the hell are you talking about? I’m you… anything that comes from me is an extension from somewhere in that pea-brain of yours.” he slapped Ed’s hand down._

“I would never think those things about Oswald.”

_“Oh, but you did, once…”_

“That was a long time ago…”

_“Not that long ago…” he shrugged._

“SHUT. UP.” Ed put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tight. When he opened them, the apparition was gone. He looked back and forth hesitantly and sighed in relief before he turned to lay down on his bed.

_“Miss me?” His cynical laughter ringing in Ed’s ears again. Ed jumped and swung around but the apparition had already moved. “Damn, that never gets old.” He removed his glasses and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes that had formed._

“Leave me to write in peace, please.”

_“You’re still going to write back to that cretin? After all he’s done to you?”_

“He’s still my friend; my best friend, in fact.” He reached under his bed to retrieve the paper and pencil he had hidden. The figured sighed loudly and made a face of disgust.

_“How can you not see through his bullshit. You really are a sucker.”_

“I am not! Oswald wouldn’t lie to me.”

_“You’re telling me you believe the whole ‘someone stole my pencil’ excuse?”_

“Well…”

_“Who would steal a pencil?”_

“Maybe they wanted to use it as a shank?”

_“A sha-“ he cuts himself off with very apparent fake laughter. “Well, gee, Ed. Maybe Penguin is right to keep you around. You’re a better lap dog than… his actual dog.”_

“I’m not Oswald’s lap dog.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m the one who always does the heavy lifting! He doesn’t do anything but sit and “ _plot_ ” and even then…” the figure smiled deviously.

_“Exactly, you’d do much better without him weighing you down, especially with that limp.” He fueled._

Ed looked down at the dirty paper and pencil as words started to formulate in his head. Anger over took him as he started scribbling every bad feeling and thought he had about Oswald on to the paper, not stopping even when his hand began to cramp from holding the pencil so tightly. 

_“That’s it, let it all out. Ohh, that’s a good one. I wish I had thought of that… wait.” He read over Ed’s shoulder, all too delighted that his present self was giving in to what he wanted. “Now, finish it, tell him the truth… You. Don’t. Love. Him.” He grinned._

Through his manic state, Ed heard every word whispered in his ear, fueling the anger that was spilling onto the page through insults and false statements. He picked through every part of Oswald; everything from calling him a failure, telling him no one would ever really follow him,  making fun of his nose and his clothes, and criticizing the way he walked—even though deep down inside, he knew Oswald couldn’t help it. He let it all out, everything and anything except the subject of love; but, the voice in his ear, egging him on, getting louder and louder had other plans.

_”Do it, you coward! Tell him the truth, tell him you don’t love him!”_ Ed froze and the pencil shook in his hand, trying his best to deny the screaming voice in his ear. He closed his eyes and thought about all the times he felt something for Oswald, even if it was just a twinge, even if it wasn’t love per se. He slowly came back to reality and studied the page, horrified by what he had written. All those things he said about Oswald… he felt… he felt…

_“God, you are the worst! Such a brat, I’m only doing what’s best for you! Write it!” he got in Ed’s face, but he could tell, by now,_

_he lost him._

Ed dropped the pencil and grabbed the paper, crumpling it into a ball before taking a deep breath and throwing it across the room. When he opened his eyes, he was gone, not for good, never for good, but at least for now; Ed could live with that. He picked up the pencil and grabbed another piece of paper, checking the room one last time before beginning another letter to Oswald.

 

  **Dear Oswald,**

**There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I could never bring myself to do it… until now—**

**I love you.**


End file.
